


netflix and pining

by remy (iamremy)



Series: askbox prompts (multifandom) [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ficlet, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, late seasons wincest, netflix is dean's wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 17:09:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20709593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: anonymous asked:37 wincest? 👀really enjoyed ur last ficPrompt is "gone." The boys watch a movie in Dean's room, while Dean pines silently.





	netflix and pining

**Author's Note:**

> more late seasons wincest! there can never be enough, honestly.

In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to agree to Netflix in Dean’s room. The placement of the TV means that both of them have to crowd on the bed to be able to comfortably look at the screen, bowl of popcorn between them, and the longer the movie goes on, the more Sam relaxes, until he’s half-sitting, half-lying, his body warm against Dean’s.

Dean’s the one who chose the movie, and yet he has no fucking clue what they’re watching. He hasn’t been able to pay attention to a single second of it, not when Sam’s leaning into his side like this, soft and open and happily content just to be here. Every single point where Sam’s skin touches Dean is a focused blaze of heat, and it’s taking all of Dean’s considerable willpower not to reach out and just put his fingers on the exposed skin of Sam’s hipbone where his shirt’s ridden up.

Sam laughs at something on the screen. It makes his eyes light up, makes Dean’s heart stop, every single inch of his body tingling.

He’s so gone on Sam. So fucking gone.

Something else happens onscreen; Sam laughs again. His head is leaning against Dean’s arm, hair mussed up and falling all over the place, making him look strangely vulnerable in a way Dean rarely gets to see. It makes every single protective instinct inside him flare up, makes him want to wrap his arms around Sam and figure out a way to hide him from the rest of the world, to make himself into a suit of armor that will keep Sammy safe forever.

Sam slouches further down the bed; his shirt rides up even more. Those few inches of skin are going to be the death of Dean, especially because, with the way Sam’s positioned, Dean can _feel_ his skin against his own, warm and soft and inviting as all hell.

He’s jolted from his thoughts when the TV screen blacks out, the room abruptly going darker. Blinking, Dean turns his gaze to the TV to find that the movie has ended and the credits are running. Disappointment curls hot and heavy in his belly; this means Sam is going to go to bed in his own room, and Dean will no longer have that comforting weight by his side.

He’s just opened his mouth to suggest watching another movie in a last-ditch effort to keep Sam with him, when Sam sits up and says, “Man, I’m _wiped_.”

Dean closes his mouth, resisting the urge to sigh. There goes that plan, then.

“Was a good movie, though,” Sam adds, and yawns, stretching his arms above his head as he does so. More skin; Dean is _burning_. “What do you think?” he asks, appearing for all intents and purposes totally oblivious to Dean’s suffering. “Worth watching the sequel?”

Dean jumps at his chance. “Oh yeah, definitely,” he says, struggling to keep his voice normal. “Could watch it now if you want–”

“No, not now,” Sam says. “Got something else in mind.”

“Like what?” Dean asks, confused.

Sam grins at him. “You’ll see,” is all he says.

“Can’t see shit in this light,” Dean points out. The credits have finished rolling and the room is almost in complete darkness now.

His bedside lamp comes on in response to that, and Sam smiles. “Better?”

Dean nods. His throat is suddenly dry, his brain unable to process the way Sam’s skin looks when the light falls on it.

“Are you–” Dean clears his throat, tries again. “You gonna go to bed now, Sammy?”

“Mm-hmm,” replies Sam, but makes no move to get off Dean’s bed. Dean stares at him, wondering what the hell he’s thinking, and Sam looks back, gaze steady, eyes bright in the lamplight.

“Sammy?” Dean says, a little unsure. “What are you–”

Sam kisses him.

Dean’s response is instinctive, something primitive deep inside him coming alive as he kisses back immediately, not wasting a single second. Sam’s hands are on his face, framing it gently, and Dean settles his on Sam’s slender waist, pulling him closer, until Sam’s straddling him, knees by Dean’s hips. His mouth is soft and so deliciously wet, tasting like buttery popcorn and beer, and his lips fall open at once without Dean having to do anything at all.

They stop only when Dean is about three seconds away from passing out due to oxygen deprivation. Sam rests his forehead against Dean’s, his eyes closed, breath warm as it falls over Dean’s mouth in little pants. His hands are on Dean’s shoulder now, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“Sammy?” Dean tries, voice coming out a hoarse, breathless whisper. His hands have somehow found their way to Sam’s hipbones after all, thumbs absently stroking the skin there.

Sam just laughs in response, bright and so damn beautiful. “You weren’t doing anything,” he says, opening his eyes, “so I had to. Or we’d just have gone on like that forever.”

They probably would have, Dean thinks, dazed. _He _had certainly never dared to hope for reciprocation of his feelings. They’d probably have danced around each other till their dying day.

“Love when you’re proactive, Sammy,” is Dean’s lame response, but it makes Sam laugh anyway, so there’s that.

“Someone’s gotta be,” he teases, pecking Dean’s lips.

“You know what?” Dean says, suddenly emboldened. “You’re absolutely fucking right, Sammy.” And with that he wraps both arms around Sam and flips their positions, pinning Sam underneath him and grinning at the surprised look on Sam’s face.

“_Oh_,” says Sam, and then, “Okay, I can get with that. I can absolutely get with that–”

Dean leans in to kiss him, effectively shutting him up. They never do get around to the sequel, in the end, but that’s absolutely fine by Dean.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you thought of it!
> 
> love,  
remy


End file.
